


Stressed, Aching, Soothed

by recurringdreams



Series: Needed [2]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Massage, Work stress, bad day, major fluff, shower time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recurringdreams/pseuds/recurringdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's just about had it with work, and he does all he can to wind her down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stressed, Aching, Soothed

He kicked his feet quietly, watching the doorway from his place at the kitchen island. She would be late in tonight, a meeting overrun with a donor for their charity, and he knew that if their terse phonecall at lunchtime was anything to go by, she would not be the sunny woman he knew her to be as she strode through the door.

He had wanted to give her a cuddle from the moment she had texted him, telling him she needed to hear his voice. The sound had shaken him, the way that her usually soft voice trembled with anxiety as she spoke too fast the moment that he had answered.

“My love, they’ve called and said they want to meet tonight and I don’t know whether I’m dressed well enough, or if the presentation’s prepared I’ve been down to marketing and they’re working on something new for me but baby what happens if they say no?” He chuckled softly and opened his mouth to reply, before an even more terrified, “what happens if they say yes?” Came down the line.

“Darling girl,” He said softly, running his hand through his hair as he pushed a couple of buttons on the stereo remote and the music around him died down, “They’re going to love you. You’re well spoken, your ideas are well thought out, and, if you’re looking as good as you did when you left this morning, you’re well sexy, too.” He chuckled, putting on a more ‘street’ accent as he took a slow breath.

There was a beat as she processed the words, and a little giggle slipped out of her mouth.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I love you too.” He chuckled again, “I’ll get dinner and stuff sorted, for when you get in?”

“Mmm, yes please.” She hesitated, “What’s for dinner?”

“I’ll think of something. Shepherd’s pie? I can’t cook that wrong, can I?”

“No, love, you can’t. You’ll cook it perfectly.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I really do love you.” She giggled again, and he heard the sound of her desk phone ringing in the background. “And I have to go. Again. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home?”

“Please, love.” He smiled, pulling at the hem of his shirt, “I’ll be waiting, and everything will be piping hot for you.”

“Including you?”

“Obviously,” He intoned playfully, Sherlock voice slipping out this time.

\---------

She stormed through the front door in a hail of leaves and rain. For a moment, Benedict thought he was watching a dryad, a nymph, conjuring her forest to life in a wave of rage, before she slammed the front door and a loud, ‘fuck’ slipped from her lips.

“Darling?”

“Don’t darling me now, Benedict.” She called, “I’m wet, I’m cold and I hate, _hate, __” she groaned and rubbed her face, slipping her jacket onto the coathook and shaking the damp, sticky hair from her face as she groaned. “I hate my job.”_

“No you don’t,” He said softly, slipping from the stool he was sat at, “You really don’t, my beautiful girl.”

“No,” She sighed, “I don’t at all. But if I’d left at five like I was supposed to, I would have missed the rain and could have been able to cuddle you more and I would be warm and…” she pouted, her shoulders dropping. “I’m tired and I need a cuddle.” She looked up at him, tiny in her exhaustion and frustration.

“I can do that.” He chuckled, “And I can cook shepherd’s pie, too.” She tilted her head, “It’s crispy and the mash is smooth and there’s plenty of gravy.” There was another pause and his arms slipped around her waist, “And, _and, __my love, I remembered how you like your carrots and I think you’ll find there are raw carrot sticks waiting for you too.”_

In the four minutes that she had been stood in the doorway, kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable, her expression had smoothed, her shoulders had relaxed and she looked a little taller.

“Raw? And… quartered?” She practically squealed as he nodded, kicking her legs, “Oh, Benedict!” Her arms slipped around him, and she squeezed tightly. He laughed, a soft, gentle laugh as he pressed his lips to her jaw. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He grinned, “I aim to please.”

“You most certainly do.” She hesitated, smiling slightly more hopefully now. “Any chance I could have a shower before tea?”

“Of course, silly.” Another kiss to her temple and he grinned, “It’s just keeping warm in the oven.” His lips pressed to her cheek, “Need anything tonight?”

“Cuddles, maybe?” She shrugged, “Or…”

“Or?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. She looked away, swinging her arm a little.

“Well, I’ve been sitting at a computer all day,” she said, blushing, “and my back hurts a bit.”

“Are you asking for a massage?”

“Uh,” She flushed, “Yeah. Maybe.” He grinned at her coyness. She was never one to ask for things, unless she was truly in need of assistance, and to hear her whisper that she wanted his hands on her body was more than arousing. His tongue peeked out, wetting his lips ever so slightly as he stroked his hand up and down her side.

"Then I'll give you a massage after dinner." He kissed her temple, "promise."

\----------

She stretched, happily putting her hand under the spray to test its temperature. She felt sore all the way up and down her back, shoulders rolling, stomach aching, and she knew she would need a long, heavy soak in a bath at some point over the weekend.

"Love?" Ben slipped his head through the crack in the door, grinning, "Need anything? I've poured you a glass of wine out here, and I'll lay out some warm PJs..."

In a blink she had crossed the room, pulling his lips gently to hers, kissing him gently and humming against his mouth.

"I love you," she whispered, "thank you."

"As I said earlier, beautiful, anytime." A gentle kiss to her jaw and he pushed the door open more fully, "want me in the shower with you?"

"Not unless you want to, baby." She smiled, kissing his cheek again, "I'd love you in with me but if you've got things to do-"

"Only you, my love." He smiled, kissing along her cheekbone, "you're my priority this weekend."

"I have you all weekend?"

"Every single minute," he grinned, pecking her on the nose ever so lightly. "If you want me?"

"Always, you daft bugger," a gentle kiss to his cheek, "I love you."

"Want a hand getting these clothes off?"

"Very much so, handsome," She smiled, pulling him close and stroking her hand gently through his hair.

In a whirlwind, Ben had torn her clothes from her body, letting the silk blouse pile up against the dark blue trousers, cotton knickers, all still damp from the weather. As he turned her, gently pushing her toward the warm spray from the shower, he hummed, licking his lips as he took in the dark tattoo across her shoulders, the soft curve of her backside, and the dimples at the base of her spine.

"See something you like?" She murmured, turning and groaning as the spray dripped over her body. "Because as of now, its all open for business."

"Nope," he whispered, kicking off his joggers and dumping his t-shirt by her clothes, "I see the woman I love," a gentle kiss to her lips as he stepped under the spray, "and all I want to do is make her feel good."

She sighed, smiling, cuddling into him under the water spray.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"Everything," he whispered in return, stroking his hand along her spine, "look at you. You're exhausted."

"Physically," she whispered. "I just need to relax." She lifted her head, pressing her lips to his jaw, then his cheek, then his lips, "get some food in me, get some of you in me."

He laughed, a soft belly laugh that left her giggling as she reached up to kiss him.

"You are a bad girl," and she squealed as his hand came down on her backside. "Making my imagination run wild before you've even let your hair down."

"Of course," she whispered, "wouldn't want to leave you needy."

"The cheek of it." He kissed her forehead, "let me wash your hair? I love listening to you purr."

She hummed, turning and reaching out for her vanilla-mocha shampoo. He stretched easily, slipping his hand over hers and easing her hair under the spray as he lathered her up.

"Eyes shut, baby," he kissed her forehead, the tang of shampoo making him wince as he accidentally took in some bubbles, "rinse."

As he stroked his fingers softly through her hair, fiddling gently, twisting, turning his fingers and drawing them through, unknotting and untangling, he watched her lips part, eyes widen, mouth drop open with a gentle sigh.

"Oh, yes... That's nice," she hummed, as he fiddled gently with a particularly stubborn knot at the base of her skull. "Please don't stop, love."

"I won't. Need conditioner?" He smiled as she nodded, barely.

"Yeah. Please." Her lips parted gently as his fingers pressed into the weak spot, just below the nape of her neck, "oh, Ben..."

\------

Dinner was sedate, slow, warming, intimate.

They abandoned the idea of sitting formally at the table, the breakfast bar seeming chilly and unappealing, instead, shutting the door on the living room, holding trays and piled up plates, balancing the salt, pepper and gravy in one hand as they juggled cutlery and warm glasses in the other.

"Armchairs?" She had offered.

"Sofa, silly. I want to cuddle you while we eat." She giggled, coy once more. He had spent his time taking her apart in the shower, rubbing her head, shoulders, arms, hands, promising that he would get her back and her legs after dinner. She had moaned and groaned, plaintive, asking for more kisses, more languid touches in places he had deliberately neglected, saving for later.

With a little trouble, they sank into the plush sofa, pulling blankets over them and meeting in the middle as they tucked in closer and kissed, before trading sundries, digging into the piles of potato and meat.

Ben watched her in his periphery as she took her first bite, concerned that she wouldn't be satisfied.

"Oh, god," she groaned, shoving another mouthful in immediately, "did oo fell your fooole for dith?"

"Sorry?" There was mirth in his tone, and he watched her swallow, sigh and rest her head back gently.

"I said, did you sell your soul for this? It's... Ugh, Ben, you know exactly what I need. Always." She looked delighted, and he knew she was no actress. He prided himself on being able to read her, and she knew it made him happy to see her satisfied, to know he'd done well. In the same way, he knew of her desperation to please him, her desire not to fail him. When they played, either one could assume either role, one in control, the other feeding their need.

He fixed her with a gentle gaze, taking in the look of her eyes, the flush of her cheeks. The wine she had been drinking had eased her stress further, lips fuller, redder, easier as she let her lips wrap around the fork, not daring to lose a morsel. In the hour that she had been home, he had watched her come down from a peak of stress that had worried him, scared him. He hated to see her so panicked, without having the ability to take that stress away.

"Darling," she hummed, swallowing down another mouthful, "you're staring."

"Just thinking," he said, deep voice rumbling at her side, "I worried earlier." A kiss to her temple, "thought you were on the verge of arson." She looked up at him, eyes sparkling, as she let out a bark of laughter.

"No, no. Total physical collapse, perhaps, but I wouldn't be into property damage." He laughed and gently kissed her forehead, "but I feel energised, now." Another kiss to her forehead, "all these slow release carbs."

"Energised for an evening of massages and movies in bed?"

"Mmm, absolutely," she grinned, kissing his cheeks and forehead gently, "just as long as you don't touch my feet."

"No foot massage?" He pouted, taking another mouthful of fluffy mash, "no tickling?" He pressed his tray aside and went to grab her foot.

"Benedict!" She squealed, shaking her head and kicking out, trying to stop him grabbing her, "no!" He laughed, settling back into the cushions and relaxing. She was flushed, red and giggling as he watched her, carefully tucking her feet under her as he kissed her cheek and they both carried on eating.

"So, no tickling, then?"

"Definitely not," she laughed, rolling her eyes playfully as he played at pouting and sighing. "You're a bloody teenager, sometimes," she snorted, and he couldn't help but give another little chuckle, lifting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek.

"I'm yours, though."

"You'd bloody better be," she giggled, "you've lived with me for eight months."

"I've loved you for two years." He whispered, taking her now empty plate, and setting it aside, never breaking gaze with her as his voice dropped, hands shifting gently to grip at her waist. "And I'll love you for a hundred more."

"Only a hundred?" She giggled, "I had plans for at least a millennium."

"Well, I'm sure I'll do something to piss you off at some point." His hands slipped down to grip her wrists, bringing both hands to his lips, kissing alternately.

"I would make sure we fixed it." She murmured, turning her hand to touch his cheek. "There's nothing we couldn't get through."

"No stress, no strain?"

"No hurt or pain," she smiled, kissing him gently, her heart swelling at the sound of their little inside joke. "Nothing could keep me from loving you."

He smiled, running his fingers down the side of her cheek, sighing softly.

"Kiss me, now, love?" He hummed, eyes boring into her own. "I need to kiss you now."

She dipped her head, acquiescing, before looking up to him, eyes close, lips pliant as he claimed them for his own. At first gentle, feeling soft breaths against each other's cheeks, then, grips tightening, lips hardening, moving, moulding, claiming.

Her eyes, squeezed tight, fluttered open, then closed once more, tongue peeking out to brush against his mouth, begging for more, begging deeper, pulling closer as his hands tightened, clutching at the fabric of her pyjama top as he lifted her into his lap, fingers slipping into long strands of soft hair, tongue pushing against one that pushed back. She needed him to own her, and she opened to him, smiling, tongue twisting beneath his as he led, he pulled her along in his wake as they groaned, panted, held on.

"Oh, my love," he breathed out softly, kissing her again, lips gentle, suckling at her bottom lip as it jutted out, giving herself to him. "So beautiful."

\--------

Generally, she didn't approve of oils, but the feeling of his hands against her back, slick and soft, smelling of cinnamon and sugar, warming her... It was delicious. It was incredible. She wanted to scream, and she wanted to come. Her body was boiling, but relaxed, but electric.

She would never understand what he did to her.

"Is this nice, love?" He whispered suddenly, shifting his hips so that he could lean over her side, "you're squirming."

"I love it," she managed, briefly drumming her fingers against the mattress, "your hands should be registered as weapons. Spies would kill to be able to get an informant in this position."

"Why's that?" He tilted his head, hand working down her bicep, briefly massaging her hand.

"You could get me to say... Do... anything like this." She giggled softly, "I feel... So soft. So pliant."

He chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

"Good. I want you to feel good." Her fingers twitched again, "and I'm rather glad you do." He grinned, stroking his hand down the length of her spine. "Legs?"

"Mmm," she nodded, "calves, please." Another kiss to her body, this time against her neck, "want me on my back?"

"Might be easier." His palm stroked along her hip, "might be tempting, though."

"Tempting?"

"If I'm watching you groan, moan, wriggle under me..." Playfully, she kicked out.

"What if that was the plan?!"

"Oh," momentarily, he was stunned, "oh! You dirty girl!"

She giggled and shifted over, watching him eagerly.

"I've had a hard day," she smiled, lazily lifting her hand, beckoning him closer, "I mean, who wouldn't want an attractive man to see her right in the evening?"

"Well, I for one certainly wouldn't," he chuckled, crawling over her and leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips, "I have an attractive woman, upon whom I can lavish good food, affection and pleasure."

"Don't forget intelligent conversation," she purred, "I love your intelligent conversation."

"You do, do you?" He chuckled, "well, what would I be without intelligent conversation?"

"A damn good shag?"

Now he was snorting, gently huffing at her skin as he trailed kisses over her collarbone.

"Just for you, love."

She giggled back, her hand drawing up his spine this time.

"When did you take your shirt off?"

"About when you let me unhook your bra," he smiled, lightly pressing his lips, then his tongue to a mark he had left on her collarbone a few nights previous. "Bruise," he whispered.

"Doesn't hurt." She replied, simply, fingers slipping into his hair. "You can kiss it better if you like?"

"Mmm, I will." And he set about applying his lips gently, slowly, tongue stroking along her skin. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered, "you're being dreadfully affectionate tonight."

"I missed you." He purred, "I've been away too long, and coming back last week... You being so stressed on this project..." A gentle kiss against her neck, "you deserve affection. The turn to take the weight off your feet and cuddle up, kiss me, let me kiss you..."

He leaned over for a moment, kissing her slowly, lips pressed gently against hers. She responded, lazily but eagerly, nipping at his bottom lip, sucking as he pressed his tongue into her mouth, groaning as her taste mixed with his.

"I hate being away from you," he said eventually, "I hate not holding you at night. I hate not kissing your forehead in the mornings."

"You do that?"

"Before I have to get onto set, I do. You get this happy little crease in your nose, a crinkle kind of thing." He smiled, running his thumb over her forehead gently. "Just here, too. It's incredibly cute. Puts me in a good mood when I have to leave at four and won't get back till eight."

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously cute?"

"Yes." She sighed and rolled her eyes, heavy on the melodrama. He kissed her throat once, feeling the vibration of that sigh as it trickled from her skin into his. Another, more gentle moan slipped from her as she ran her hand along his shoulders again. "Satisfied?"

"Very nearly," he chuckled, kissed her nose and ran his hand up her side, shifting so that he was laid out beside her, curled up against her skin. "Do you still need-" he left the question hanging in the air, fingers playing up and down her skin silently.

"I'm happy with whatever you're happy with," she inclined her head, pressed her hand over his against her stomach.

"Kissing, touching," he shrugged, "kidnapping you for the entire weekend."

"I like the sound of all three." She hesitated, "they're not mutually exclusive?"

"No, promise." He chuckled and kissed her once, fingers still stroking along her skin. Up to her breast, back down to her navel, repeating the cycle until her muscles jumped and a little high sigh left her lips. "Mmm, I could do this all day."

She giggled again, rolling onto her side and kissing him slowly, letting his hand get caught between their bodies.

"Touch me higher," she whispered, "play with me. I..." Another high moan as he flicked his thumb over her nipple. She squeaked at the gentle pinch, then, as he watched, her back arched, pushing her soft breast into his hand.

"You are gorgeous, love." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck again. "You're so sexy." His hand slipped lower. "You want me to touch you? Down here?"

She chuckled, needy, and nodded.

"On your back, then, beautiful." He smiled, and leaned over her, kissing her once again. She hummed against his lips, warm and pliant now, the stresses and strains of her job slipping away from her. They were curled up together. They were holding each other. That's all that mattered. Another kiss on the lips and she was squirming, ready and willing to be touched, to be taken.


End file.
